I came upon this writing while going through a family scrapbook. I think it is worth a share to others. I have told some members of the writer’s family that I would post it for those who would like to see. It was a long time ago; my mother has written circa 1950 on the envelope. The writer was my great uncle and I will be 87 this week. That’s way back there. He rues the drinking which came between him and his wife. I don’t know whether he overcame his drinking habit. But he remarried, and had more children with whom I am just now beginning an acquaintance via FB. Maybe one of them can tell me whether he beat the drinking habit. I hope so. I have laid paper clips by the paper so you can see what tiny writing. The paper was 2 x 3 1/2 inches.

A SINNER’S MISERY

Oh God, have mercy on a sinner who is too weak, and doesn’t have strength to change his ways. Until he has lost all in this world that is, or was worth living for. I guess its too late now, but it isn’t too late to change my ways.

I have been a coward, a sinner. I have prayed for strength, but my prayers were unanswered, and Satan stepped in and told me a Sinners best friend is the bottle and the Devil. They stayed with me. Satan said, “Go on” while I listened to him, an angel was saying “Fred, don’t do it.” That angel was my own dear wife.

I killed all the love she had for me, for I stood by the Devil and he stood by me. He’d say, “Come have another drink,” and with tears in my eyes I would sometimes think “Why be a coward.” Then satan would say “Come on have some more whiskey/booze. You can’t lose.”

Then I would drive faster and still think it safe, fifty-five and sixty was my speed, I know, when my left wheel hit a bank of snow. Two times I turned over, both times by myself. “No” Satan was with me. I remember quite well. For, he had just said, “Fred, give her hell. The pickup is too slow. You can make sixty and get on ahead.”

Well I was half-past him, when he cut in on me, That’s when I had to take the snowbank, you see. Two men and one girl were in that pickup, turned upside down.

They were drunk. Well what about me? Well, I’ll make one more round, with the bottle by my side, and then I’ll change my ways, and with a preachers pride. And to satan and whisky I’ll say, farewell. For no man wants to dwell in hell.

Then my darling wife may sometime see, it was satan and whisky and not just me. O God, do be kind to the darling of mine, that I caused so miuch sorrow while I was still blind.

The most perfect man can say with a sigh, “no man is without sin not even I.

If God would grant me fifty more years of life. I’d say, instead, just give me two with my wife.

My life work seems ended and when I think why, tears very often come to my eyes, and I cry. I have fought many battles but this is the worst, To think, how I’m frowned on and cursed.

I have promised to do, the best I can do. But they all seem to say, “You Liar, You.”

by Fred